Winter's Crown: Act 2, Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It hurts.

Ilyshn’ish stared morosely at the door of the broom closet, holding her jaw open gingerly.

The pulsing waves of pain from the horrible, evil, glaive still coursed through her body, and she wasn’t recovering at all. She felt weak and sick; she felt lethargic, yet she was unable to sleep. Dragons did not possess fast, supernatural regeneration like some other species, but they did have a robust constitution and recovered fairly quickly from even grave injuries if they were afforded the time to rest.

As far as she knew, the weapon had simply touched her tongue, yet, after over a day, she still teetered in the same, dire state as when she had initially received the injury. She couldn’t even detect any real injuries on her person – only a helpless sense of impending doom: the shadow of death that lurked just out of view.

Was it some sort of cursed weapon? Recalling the lambent darkness sheathing the wickedly gleaming blade, she believed the possibility high. It could have been some sort of unholy weapon as well – one that inflicted necrotic damage on a victim, leaving wounds unhealable until the attached conditions were addressed. Such weapons she had read about, but not from cargo manifests of traders and shopkeepers. These were weapons listed in judicial documents, considered the tools of assassins and villains and thus outlawed in the Dwarven Kingdom.

Not that knowing this helped her in any way. The songs of recovery and healing that she possessed didn’t work, and those powerful enough to remove curses and other similar conditions were beyond her.

“Number Twelve,” the voice of a Vampire Bride leaked through the thin wooden door.

A minute later, she felt the presence of a Dragon standing in the corridor outside. Due to her draconic Blindsight, she didn’t need to open the closet door to ‘see’ what was happening immediately beyond it. In an attempt to distract herself from the maddening pain, Ilyshn’ish focused on what was going on outside her tiny room. The door was so thin that it didn’t obstruct much of what was coming across from the other side.

When ‘Number Twelve’ arrived at the front desk, two of the Vampire Brides moved to equip magical bags onto his torso. He remained still, even when they crawled over him to secure the straps.

“Deliver these to the Feoh Jura surface outpost by this time tomorrow,” a Vampire Bride said. “You will receive further instructions from the clerk posted there. Have a safe journey.”

The Frost Dragon wordlessly nodded, walking out into the open section of wall nearby to take wing, where he vanished beyond the limit of Ilyshn’ish’s Blindsight.

“Number Five…”

The process repeated itself several times over the course of the next hour. Why were so many Dragons being sent to the Dwarf city? It didn’t sound like they were mounting an attack.

“Number Two,” the Vampire Bride’s voice sounded yet again.

This should be mother...

Ilyshn’ish recalled the number nailed to the post beside Kilistran’s pen. As the much larger Dragon presence stopped in front of the door, Ilyshn’ish rose to her feet. Doing so made her involuntarily close her mouth, and a fresh bout of pain lanced through her body. Her back arched as she let out a hoarse sounding squeak one would ever expect to issue forth from a ten-metre long Adult Dragon. The ridge of her spine bumped up into the shelf above; boxes, towels and other objects rained down upon her.

Her drum landed on her head with a low booming sound – she did not recall putting it there. Considering who else was around, it had most likely been Hejinmal. The door drifted open from the various objects falling against it.

“Is something the matter, daughter?” Kilistran asked with an expression of vague curiosity on her face.

“What does it look like, mother?" Ilyshn’ish groaned. “No, wait, where are you going? I mean…why are you all being sent to the Dwarves?”

“Why? That’s because–” Kilistran paused as a Vampire Bride crawled up her shoulder. “That’s because...it’s a job? I believe that’s what they called it, anyway.”

“Job?” Ilyshn’ish furrowed her brow at the strange word, “What do you mean by this?”

“It is what it is,” Kilistran shrugged as the Vampire Bride hopped off. “Look, mother needs to go and work now, so be a good girl and stay at home. Hejinmal’s still around since they’re not sure what to do with him yet: you should speak with him if there’s anything more you need to know.”

Kilistran turned her head away and shuffled out to take wing, quickly rising to the north. Why did she have so many more bags?

The Vampire Bride called for the next number and, eventually, seventeen Frost Dragons had departed to the north on some unknown ‘job’ and Ilyshn’ish was left with her aches and pains. A Vampire Bride came up to the door.

“What do you want?” Ilyshn’ish said in sulky tones.

The Undead female ignored her question, stepping around her to clean up the mess in the broom closet. In a few minutes, everything was sorted neatly again – even the drum was back in its place above her head. Task complete, the Vampire Bride walked out and closed the door.

“Wait,” Ilyshn’ish called out after her.

The door opened slightly, and the Vampire Bride poked its head in, an unspoken question in its crimson gaze.

“My drum – did you put it away earlier today as well?”

“Yes?”

“Why?”

“Is it not one of your belongings?”

“…”

The Vampire Bride’s head disappeared from the door, and she walked away.

“…wait,” Ilyshn’ish called out after her again.

A head popped into the door again. Ilyshn’ish quickly reviewed the events of the past few days before speaking.

“Ahem–ow,” she winced. “I would like to join the others. Is there any way to restore my condition, so that I may understand what is going on?”

The Vampire Bride blinked twice, and she walked off to the front desk without a word. After a brief discussion with another Vampire Bride that was working at her post, she returned to the broom closet and opened the door again. The second Vampire Bride hopped down off of the wall into the Demihuman Quarter.

“Come out to the front desk,” the remaining Vampire bride told her.

“W-why?” Ilyshn’ish asked, “I’m in pain, you know?”

“We are sending for Lady Pestonya,” she replied.

“Lady Pestonya? Is that something like Lady Shalltear?”

The Vampire Bride gave her a long look before replying.

“Lady Shalltear is a divine magic caster – as is Lady Pestonya. She will be tending to your condition.”

The offer of healing was greatly at odds with the memory of Lady Shalltear. Ilyshn’ish hesitated at the threshold of her room.

“Should I inform Lady Pestonya that you’re not coming?” The Vampire Bride asked.

“No, wait – I’ll come.”

Ilyshn’ish carefully slipped out of the closet, taking care not to step too solidly and thus send another wave of pain through her body. Upon reaching the desk, she craned her neck to look around. There was a slight noise as the Vampire Bride that had hopped off the wall crawled back up again, followed by another figure who seemed to have leapt straight up from the ground. Ilyshn’ish stared as it landed lightly before her – never in her life had she seen something so small jump so high before. What was the purpose of building these walls if everyone was able to get over them with such ease?

The new figure, who Ilyshn’ish assumed was Lady Pestonya, had an outfit that was roughly similar to the Miss Lupusregina and Entoma from before. It, too, she sensed to be of exquisite value. Like Lady Shalltear, she could not determine how strong this Lady Pestonya was, so she decided to not try anything lest she suffer another harrowing episode.

Lady Pestonya looked up at her with a face that Ilyshn’ish thought was what a Quagoa would look like if they were shaved bald. Upon further inspection, however, she did not have the same, distinct features as the subterranean race.

“Poor thing,” Lady Pestonya said. “How long has she been like this for?”

“Thirty-Six hours, Lady Pestonya,” one of the Vampire Brides replied.

“This appears to be Lady Shalltear’s work,” Lady Pestonya seemed to examine Ilyshn’ish with her strange eyes, “reducing someone to a sliver of health and leaving them to suffer indefinitely. Except, hmm…did she leave any instructions regarding this Frost Dragon?”

“Aside from having her returned to the pens, none,” the Vampire Bride replied, “Lady Shalltear left immediately after dealing with her.”

“I see. Well in that case…”

Lady Pestonya held her palm out towards Ilyshn’ish.

“「Greater Restoration」.”

Ilyshn’ish felt a wave of powerful magic wash over her, sweeping away the sense of affliction which pervaded her body. The magic dissipated, and a tangible sense of relief replaced the sense of wrong that loomed over her from before. She still felt the injury that had started everything, but no longer did she feel that she could not recover over time.

“The Dragons here have a Ring of Regeneration, I believe?” Lady Pestonya said, “There are a few Adventurer Guild sessions which may need my attention today, so I will be conserving my mana. Was there anyone else?”

“There is no one else, Lady Pestonya,” the Vampire Bride bowed respectfully. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“I’ll be off then. If you require anything further, you should be able to find me in the orphanage nearby…woof.”

Woof?

Lady Pestonya silently turned away and, like the Vampire Bride a short while ago, hopped off the wall into the Demihuman Quarter. The Vampire Bride near Ilyshn’ish peered up at her silently.

“What?”

“You Frost Dragons are entirely lacking in decorum,” the Vampire Bride told her. “Even though they are much weaker, the mortals I have come to know are far preferable to your kind. You need to learn some proper behaviour if you know what’s good for you.”

“Wha–”

“Anyways, now that we’ve dealt with your affliction, we will be resuming things from where we last left off…”

The other Vampire Bride retrieved a clipboard from the desk and came forward to stand beside the first.

“In order for you to join the others,” the first continued, “you must first undergo orientation and training to qualify, though I suppose most of it shouldn’t take long…”

Ilyshn’ish stretched her neck out to look down at the clipboard. The Vampire Bride scowled up at her and swatted her in the nose with it. It didn’t hurt Ilyshn’ish, but being abruptly smacked in the snout caused her to recoil.

“Hey!”

“Stop being so nosy, it’s rude.”

She glared down at the Vampire Bride that had struck her, but she seemed entirely unconcerned.

“What is your name?”

“...”

“Well, I guess that doesn’t matter, since we just go by the numbers. Let’s see…you’re about ten metres long? That should make you an Adult Frost Dragon...how old are you?”

“One-hundred and seven.”

Ilyshn’ish answered promptly, then measured the two Vampire Brides for a reaction. It was difficult to tell the age of the Undead – she had no idea how, really – but if they outwardly deferred to their clear elders as Dragons did, she thought it was something she could exploit. The Vampire Bride simply moved on to her next question after the other penned down the response and nodded.

“You are part of Kilistran’s brood, yes?”

“Yes…”

“Hmm…Kilistran has divine caster levels: have you gained anything along those lines?”

“Levels? I don’t know what you're talking about.”

“Are you able to use any spells or abilities aside from what your kind innately wield?”

Why she would be required to give away her secrets was beyond her. They wouldn’t even let her look at whatever was on the clipboard, yet they wanted to know everything.

“...”

“If you hide anything from us,” the Vampire Bride said evenly, “you may be punished in the future.”

“...”

“Ah, Ilyshn’ish,” Hejinmal’s upbeat voice came from behind her, and she turned her head at his approach, “I see you’re finally getting around to filing your paperwork. Don’t forget to tell them you’re a Bard – that’s pretty important, right?”

“Hejinmal!”

“Hiiiieee!”

The sound of pen scratching over paper turned her attention back around. The Vampire Bride taking down the information nodded.

“You’re a Bard?” The Vampire Bride conducting the interview asked, “What sort of Bard are you?”

“What sort of…” Ilyshn’ish muttered before answering, “A Dragon Bard, isn’t that plainly obvious?”

“Then…you can sing?” she continued to press her, “Perform music?”

“I know some Dwarf songs…”

“A Dragon Bard that sings Dwarf songs,” the Vampire Bride taking down notes looked up at her dubiously.

“Oh, give me a break – it was all we had at home!”

“How about magic?” The questions continued, “Can you cast spells? Does your music influence those around you?”

“Yes, yes and yes.”

Why were these even questions? Why was she even answering them, for that matter? This was all Hejinmal’s fault.

“What about fighting ability? Do you have any skills or magic relevant to combat?”

“You’re going to make me fight?”

“They’re just basic questions, sister,” Hejinmal said from the side. “I don’t think there’s any need for us to fight since they have much stronger things pretty much everywhere.”

“Of course I can fight,” Ilyshn’ish answered testily, “and yes being a Bard helps. I can sing and dance and recite poetry. I can cast spells and do all sorts of other things…that is what a Bard does, yes?”

“I-I didn’t know you could dance, sister,” Hejinmal looked at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of us dance before.”

“Neither have we,” said one of the Vampire Brides. “Show us this dance.”

“How about no?” Ilyshn’ish said, “I don’t see what this has to do with anything.”

“It doesn’t,” she replied, “we just wanted to see it. Bards are entertainers as well, yes?”

“I am not some sideshow for your personal amusement!” Ilyshn’ish slammed her right foreleg on the floor. “Let’s just get on with this inane series of questions.”

“Aww…”

“Shut up, Hejinmal!”

Her low growl quieted her curious brother, and Ilyshn’ish turned back to the Vampire Brides. The interviewer continued to scan over the contents of the clipboard.

“Do you know the locations of all the Dwarven cities in the Azerlisia Mountains?” She asked.

“Of course,” Ilyshn’ish sniffed. “I know all of the places in the Azerlisia Mountains.”

The clipboard-wielding Vampire Bride walked away, disappearing down a tower stairwell near to the front desk.

“How convenient,” the remaining Vampire Bride said. “Hejinmal only knows where Feoh Berkana is. You will bring him to Feoh Jura and participate in the activities there. Since you have Bard levels, you should be able to improve upon his sluggish performance.”

“Why am I suddenly tending to my older brother?” Ilyshn’ish complained. “I still don’t know what this job is about, for that matter.”

“Your tasks will be assigned to you after you arrive. Once your items have been equipped, you will depart immediately.”

“Don’t tell me I have to get him there by this time tomorrow. It took him two days to get here from Feoh Berkana the last time around.”

“Was this with your enhancements as a Bard?”

“Of course not. Why would I even bother doing that?”

“...”

“...”

“...anyways, just get there as quickly as possible,” the Vampire Bride told her. “There will be time for a proper analysis in the weeks to come.”

The second Vampire Bride appeared again, arms piled high with magical bags. Ilyshn’ish’s attention was riveted to them as they were laid upon the desk.

“One, two, three, four, five…oh, it seems like you’re being treated as an Old Dragon, sister,” Hejinmal said.

“I am not an old dragon,” Ilyshn’ish snapped. “I’m a fresh and healthy Adult Dragon.”

“Yes, everyone can smell that. That door blocking off your room doesn’t seem to help any.”

“You’re being gross again, brother.”

“...I didn’t mean it like that.”

“That’s not making it any better.”

The Vampire Brides split up between Ilyshn’ish and Hejinmal, each carrying an Infinite Haversack. The one approaching Ilyshn’ish sniffed in her direction several times; she wondered if she could swat her with her talons.

“You may use this one container for your personal belongings,” the Vampire Bride told her after fastening the magical bag over her shoulder. “The others will contain various cargo and parcels for delivery and are organized as such. They will change hands at the various offices on a regular basis, so be sure not to misplace your own items lest they are left behind somewhere.”

After securing all of the bags onto her body with sturdy straps of some unknown material, the Vampire Bride came forward with the various articles of jewellery that Hejinmal had described the previous night. Ilyshn’ish watched as the items that were equipped changed in size to fit snugly to her digits, tail and around her neck. As soon as the Ring of Regeneration fitted itself to her, she felt herself slowly, but surely, recovering from her injury.

“These accessories are not to leave your person,” the Vampire Bride continued in her instructions, “unless a different set of equipment is ordered for use. They are the property of the Sorcerous Kingdom, and are not to be lost, sold or otherwise exchanged.”

Ilyshn’ish peered down at the diminutive Vampire Bride before her. Obviously, she was never going to let these accessories go. She wondered how they even planned on enforcing this strange set of rules.

“A manifest has been added to your personal Infinite Haversack, which will be updated with all of the transactions performed throughout your scheduled stops at each post. Keep your deliveries timely and with a minimum of incidents: Lady Shalltear will be most displeased if we represent the new transportation network poorly.”

Ilyshn’ish’s tongue twitched at the mention of the powerful Vampire. She had agreed to play along with whatever they were on about for the time being, but she wanted to strike off on her own once she saw all there was to see of this place. Even with the halfhearted attempts at making life more comfortable, it was cramped, noisy and hot. It was not a place where one could sleep comfortably for a month after a decent meal.

“Lady Shalltear will be there?” She asked.

“Oh yes,” the Vampire Bride replied, “she will be supervising the operations personally. If you’re not on your best behaviour, you may incur her wrath again.”

Ilyshn’ish sighed.

“Are we ready to leave, brother?”

“Hm? Oh yes,” Hejinmal replied. “They don’t look it, but these bags are quite weighty – especially when you have to carry them for long distances…please don’t leave me behind again, sister.”

“If I’m supposed to take you to Feoh Jura, why would I leave you behind? That seems counterproductive.”

“...I suppose you’re correct. It must be because you did it last time.”

“Aren’t you the one that has supposedly learned in those abnormal ways for a century?”

“That’s true...I guess it just means that our nature is not so easy to escape – even for me.”